#rhydart art

[rhydart]

🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀(crab rave music)🦀🦀🦀🦀

(podfic cover for Free, by Raichett, read by violetturningviolet

in which hey, about that whole selkie skin thing. what if: nosy vex?)

fic: here

podfic: here

[viperiumprime]

ART FIGHT 42-50

Moar attacks! Moar great OCs!

42. Mai for Lydia_Croft_Art

43. Calliope for Captain_A_Haf

44. Akku and Hira for @kasarian

45. Tavi and Senna for cayestone

46. Amora for Rhydart

47. Ryosuke, Miyu, Tsutomu, and Ren for loghann

48. Jericho for @aiulite

49. Oda for @goldenfunky

50. Limoges for @arcatvist

[system-of-a-feather]

hey feathers fam what's your favorite art fight piece you've received or drawn so far

Oh fuck that requires me to remember what I have drawn.

Ones that >I< myself did, I think my favorite ones would be these - the bird-fish one was a "design me an OC"

Where as Lin did a few really good ones

My style varies a lot cause I try out a lot of new things to finesse and explore but Lin has a much more consistent style (though I don't think he has anything past busts / headshots down)

Tagging users who have a tumblr whose characters are depicted @guttersblessing @rhydart @ookamihanta

[buzzzbun]

As art fight ends, i crammed 3 more final attacks, Go Vampires

Oc Credits to gindraws_ On Insta, asteriaeldanair on DA, and @rhydart!!

[laedrin]

for @rhydart on art fight

too many cool characters aaaaaa

[shinkoscribbles]

Another batch of art fight attacks, this time for @redsand-fr and @rhydart!

[sparxwrites]

(Inspired by this post. Art below the cut is by @rhydart​.)

Part of the Eldritch Boatem series.

[ao3]

Three mornings later, something comes crawling out of the Boatem Hole with the rising of the sun.

Grian’s up at dawn to go check on the state of his shop – because one fifth of their corporation being missing-presumed-eaten is no excuse to slack on profit-making – and so he’s the only one there when it happens. One moment he’s trudging across the centre of Boatem, soaking the cuffs of his trousers in heavy morning dew and lost in thought. The next, there’s a dark shape emerging from the Boatem Hole, silhouetted against the towering pile of boats behind it.

It stops Grian in his tracks.

And then, with only a second’s hesitation, he starts to sprint.

“Scar!” he yells, before he can even make out the features, because he sees a reddish jacket and dark hair and there’s absolutely nobody else it could be. “Scar! Oh my– how are you, how did you– are you okay?

He reaches the edge of the hole just as Scar gets his torso up over it, and sticks out a shaking hand to help him up.

Scar does not take the proffered hand, and instead leverages himself over the lip of the hole with his elbows, collapsing into the wet grass there and heaving for breath. “Grian,” he says, and the name sounds strange in his mouth, pale and wavering and desperate. “Grian. Help me.”

“Yes, I’m– I’m here, it’s okay, you’re okay, you’re– are you okay?” Grian kneels down beside him, ghosts hands over him, and doesn’t touch. Scar’s flinching every time his hands get too close, which isn’t great, but it’s fine. It’s fine! Scar’s out. He’s out of the Boatem Hole, and he’s alive, and anything else can be dealt with later. Probably. Maybe.

“It… It took me.” Scar’s voice is all wrong, the pitch and rhythm off by just a hair, like a badly tuned instrument. It must be the shock. “It took me, but I’m… out now. I’m okay. Grian. I need your help.”

Grian’s never heard him like this – hesitant and unsteady, voice gone flat and tentative and blank. None of his usual charisma, no private joke tucked into the corner of his smile, no dramatics for drama’s sake. No life to him.

It’s… uncanny.

Scar drags himself to his knees, wobbly as a newborn faun, and then up to his feet. Grian scrambles to keep up, standing too, and reaches for Scar’s elbow to help steady him. To touch him, just for a second. To reassure himself that Scar is really there, real and solid and alive.

He pulls his hand back sharply when Scar flinches again. Right. No touching at all, then.

Which is weird. Scar’s never been touchy-feely, never really been the hugging type, but the flinching is new. Concerning. He’s never actively shied away from touch before, that Grian knows of, and certainly not with the strange edge of feral-animal half-panic that the motion holds now. Grian doesn’t know what to make of it.

“What do you need, Scar?” he says, instead of any of that. The last thing Scar needs now, shocked and traumatised, is him prying. “Are you– are you hurt? I’ve got potions, we can– I can get Xisuma, or Doc, or–”

“Grian,” says Scar, and takes a step back. A step closer to the Boatem Hole. “I need your help. There’s something… I left something. Back in the void. I need your help to get it back.”

A coldness settles in Grian’s stomach, because that’s– not right. Something’s not right. He’s not sure what it is, but the hairs on the back of his neck are on end, and some distant lizard-part of his brain has just sat up and started screaming. Because there’s something off here. There’s something really, really not right.

“Scar–” Grian grabs for Scar’s wrist yet again, and this time, Scar is too slow to flinch away.

This time, Grian’s fingers go straight through it, leaving a trail of sparkling pixels and a disintegrating wisp of empty black void in their wake. Grian stares, stupidly, as void and pixels both dissolve into nothingness. “…You’re not Scar,” he says, through suddenly airless lungs.

The thing that is not Scar smiles, and there is nothing behind its teeth but endless, ink-wet darkness.

Now that Grian’s looking for it, he can see that darkness everywhere – the blown-wide blackness of its pupils, the breathing shadows tangled in it hair. The thin, umbilical cord of void that pulses, stretching back from one ankle through the grass and over the lip of the hole and down, down, down.

“What have you done with him?” demands Grian, and his voice shakes, unsteady with fear and confusion and bright, hot anger. The not-Scar takes a step forward and, despite every instinct screaming at him not to, Grian holds his ground. “What have you done with Scar? Where is he?!”

“Come in,” says the Boatem Hole, stepping forward again, its mouth full of white teeth and black void, “and find him yourself.”

“Um– no, thank you very much, actually,” says Grian, and this time, he does take a step back, heart hammering against his ribs. “Absolutely not. Thanks!”

But the Boatem Hole takes another step forward, and reaches out for him, and this time it– touches. This time, Grian can feel the chill prickle of the void through whatever trickery it’s using to mimic skin, pressed solid around his wrist. This time, he can feel its nails, as they curl into claws against the soft underside of his arm.

The nails dig in hard enough to draw blood.

Grian panics.

There’s a sword in his hand, and he doesn’t remember summoning it from his inventory but it’s abruptly there, and then it’s pressed to Scar’s chest, and then it’s through Scar’s chest, and then–

It’s not Scar. Grian knows it’s not Scar. But his heart still stutters and stops as he looks up at his friend’s face where they’re pressed nearly chest-to-chest, the sword still in his hand and slipped neatly between the fourth and fifth ribs.

(Beautiful art done by @rhydart​!)

He wrenches back, pulling the sword out of its chest and himself from its grip, hands shaking. “Scar,” he gasps, though he knows it’s not, “Scar, I– I’m–”

Void pours out through the wound, black and sticky and dissolving into smoke on contact with the air. It’s slicked across his blade, down over his hand, skin dripping with it to halfway down his forearm. It feels like cold, death, despair – and then like nothing at all, as it wisps away, vanishing under the early morning light.

The Boatem Hole’s face twists into something incomprehensible, its eyes gone flat and dark and its empty mouth stretched wide. “Come in,” it whispers, as it too begins to dissolve, chunks melting off into streaks of gaseous void on the wind, “come in, come in.”

And then, in its not-Scar voice, its body sloughing away in evaporating inches, it says, “Grian– Grian, please, help– help me, Grian–”

“Scar–!” Grian grabs for the not-Scar, uselessly, and his desperate fingers go through it like a fist through smoke. “I’m, we’re coming, Scar, we’re going to– if you can hear me, we’re coming for you, I’m going to get you out, we’re–! Scar!”

And then it’s gone.

Grian is left standing there, void-slick sword in hand and stray pixels still drifting away like petals.

“…Alright,” he says, faintly, because if he doesn’t say something he has a horrible feeling he’s going to start screaming. Or worse. “Alright. Enough.” He wipes the last of the void off his sword with the flat of his palm, flicks it onto the ground where it begins to steam into nothingness under the glare of the rising sun.

Then he steps, forward, until he’s perched yet again on the precarious rim of the Boatem Hole. He stares down into it, at the depths of it, at the false bedrock that now camouflages the yawning void below.

Sword still in hand, he bares his teeth.

“I’ve had quite enough of this, thank you!” he calls down at the hole – as though it can hear him, as though it might respond. His wrist is so cold that the bones there are aching, and there are tears hot on his cheeks. He’s trying not to think about either of them. “First you eat my friend, and then you try to eat me, too? You can’t just– just take things, when they don’t belong to you! You can’t have him!”

The Boatem Hole, as expected, says nothing.

Grian thinks, though, that if he looks closely enough, he can see the false bedrock breathing.

[eight-aedra-eat-the-dreamer]

Some day you'll wake up from this dream

[merlinity]

Mosses and Lichen

[rhydart]

autopilot

An attack on roocharffer’s character, Maeve Dunmeer

[rhydart]

Meant to do this last year too. And the year before. Better late than never !

[rhydart]

Slow Fall

An attack on kikkuu’s character, Yangyang

[rhydart]

One’s not going to cut it

An attack on chyvalrys’ character, Amaryllis

[rhydart]

You shall not pass

An attack on viviemorena’s character, Brooks

[rhydart]

Rooibos

An attack on tophatcats’ character, Eklesia

[rhydart]

Sudden downpour

An attack on Shiroinya’s characters, Hina and Sei